My Grief Lies Onward, And My Joy

It Easeth Some, Though None It Ever Cured, To Think Their Dolour Others Have Endured.

Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

He's A Soldier; And For One To Say A Soldier Lies, Is Stabbing.

I Had Rather Eleven Died Nobly For Their Country Than One Voluptuously Surfeit Out Of Action.

Full Fathom Five Thy Father Lies